Falling
by KakoimonoMiyu
Summary: While wandering the halls one night, Harry overhears the professors speaking privately and finds out a student has been turned by a vampire. He's determined to help the student preserve his humanity, and it will change his life forever... again.
1. Chapter I: The Fall

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry or Draco or any other HP charries.. blah blah… J.K. Rowling… blah blah blah… don't sue.

Year:  Sixth

Pairings:  HP/DM, HG/RW, others undecided

Rating is for later chapters.  This IS a yaoi, people.  At least, it will be. If you dislike that sort of stuff, GO AWAY.  NOW.  Feel free to review, but, y'know, whatever.  Flames will be used to warm my water when the pilot light goes out.

"Falling"

I stand, looking at my hand  
I talk with these lines  
That's not the answer  
I cry and now I know  
Looking at the sky  
I search an answer  
  
So free, free to be  
I'm not another liar  
I just want to be myself… 

Myself  
  
And now the beat inside of me  
Is a sort of a cold breeze 

And I've never any feeling inside  
Around me…  
I bring my body,  
Carry it into another world  
I know I live… but like a stone I'm falling down  
  
Damned, looking into the sky  
I can feel this rain  
Right now it's falling on me  
Fly, I just want to fly  
Life is all mine  
  


Some days I cry alone,  
But I know I'm not the only one  
I see that another day is gone  
I don't wanna die…  
Please be here when I'll arrive

Don't die… please

- Lacuna Coil

Chapter I: The Fall

Harry hadn't been able to sleep. This wasn't the first night, however; he had been losing a lot of sleep lately. But he had found a sort of remedy. He would slip on his invisibility cloak and wander around the empty nighttime hallways for an hour or so before retiring to the dormitories once more and dropping off into a deep, dreamless sleep. He was currently on his way back to the Gryffindor common room, but something made him pause.

"How could this have happened here, on school grounds? Are the students no longer safe?"

"Now now, calm down. He _was wandering near the Forbidden Forest, after all."_

"_Calm down? A student was __turned!"_

Harry frowned. There seemed to be a very heated argument going on inside the classroom he had stopped in front of, and he recognized the voices immediately.

"Calm yourself, Severus, please. We must remain rational."

"But Albus, you know—"

"Yes, I know. He is almost like a son to you. But it's not as if he died, Severus."

"Close enough!"

"No. He has simply… been given a new life. One that he didn't ask for, most likely did not want. But he will get through this, with a little help."

A new voice suddenly cut in.

"But what about the other students? What if that… that _thing_ is still on the grounds?"

"Relax, Minerva. The grounds have been thoroughly searched, and the intruder was not found."

"But how hard do you think it would be for such a creature to elude our efforts?"

"Even vampires cannot hide from magic."

Harry quirked a brow. Vampires? But vampires weren't real. 

_Witches and wizards weren't real before either, though, were they? He told himself silently. _

"For now," Dumbledore said with that quiet authority he always seemed to have about him, "let us try and get some sleep, hm?"

Snape didn't seem to want to let things go. "But what about—"

"He will be fine, Severus." The Headmaster sounded almost weary now. "Poppy will take good care of him."

Snape made some small, derisive sound, as if was going to say more, but remained silent.

"Now then, off to bed, both of you."

Harry moved out of the way quickly as a very distraught McGonagall exited the classroom, followed by an angry looking Snape. Harry watched them disappear down the dark corridor and was about to go back to his dorm, where he was supposed to be anyway, when he was stopped by Dumbledore's voice.

"Do come in, Harry. I would like to talk with you."

Harry cringed slightly. Of course Dumbledore would know he was here, cloak or not. He gathered his resolve and stepped into the room, slipping off the invisibility cloak and bracing himself for some point deducting.

"I, uh… er… Hullo, Professor."

Dumbledore smiled, looking rather amused. "Good evening, Harry. Taking a little midnight stroll?"

"I suppose you could call it that…" Harry muttered.

"And I assume you heard the conversation I was having with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape." It was a more a statement than a question.

Harry nodded.

"Well then, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to go ahead and tell you what exactly we were discussing."

Harry just sort of stared. He had been expecting to get in trouble, but it didn't seem to be happening.

Dumbledore smiled again and gestured to one of the empty desks. "Please, have a seat."

And Harry did, sitting down slowly and setting the cloak down on the desktop before him.

"Now then," the Headmaster began, "this evening there was an… accident. An intruder got onto to the Hogwarts grounds by entering through the Forbidden Forest."

"Someone actually got through that horrible forest?" Harry interrupted.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. And that someone happened to be a vampire. A rather deranged vampire, we believe, who attacked a student that had, for some reason, been out there wandering around. Maybe sleeping troubles." He gave Harry a knowing look. "To skip to the point, that vampire attacked the student, drained him, and then, for some reason, turned him."

Harry sat quietly, listening raptly.

"Young Mr. Malfoy is now up in the infirmary, in a small private room that lacks any windows, to keep out the sunlight come morning."

Harry nearly choked on his next breath. "_Malfoy_!?"

Dumbledore gave a small nod. "We have not yet contacted his mother and father. We want to give him a little time first to adjust."

Harry was still in a bit of shock. Malfoy, his arch-rival, was now a _vampire_? That gave the blonde a little bit of an advantage, didn't it? If he really wanted to, he could kill Harry in his sleep. Lord knows it wouldn't be hard to trick or frighten the Gryffindor password out of some first year. 

"Being what he is now," Dumbledore continued, "Mr. Malfoy will have to… feed nightly. Also, _who he is, combined with the fact that he is a fledgling, tells me that chickens will not cut it. Therefore, I think it would be best to arrange a donor system."_

"A… a donor system?" Harry repeated haltingly.

"Yes. A select group of older students that can be trusted not to go around giving the school more reason to gossip. I was thinking perhaps a daily rotation, so each student, hopefully, would stay in good health."

"Uh… pardon me, Professor, but why are you telling me this?"

"Well, as I think you've probably already figured out, I would like you to be a part of this group. Of course, I will not force you."

Harry opened his mouth to decline, but was cut off.

"However, before you say no, I ask that you go and visit Mr. Malfoy for a few minutes."

Harry was about to protest, but something about the way Dumbledore was looking at him made him stop. "Okay…" he said dejectedly.

"Very good. Just tell Madam Pomfrey that I sent you, and she should let you in without question." The headmaster smiled and added, as an afterthought, "Though I doubt she will like it."

Getting up, Harry grabbed his cloak and went over to the door, nodding to Dumbledore. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Harry."

* * *

Harry paused before the door of the hospital wing, his hand poised to knock and his cloak tucked under one arm. Was he _really_ going in to visit Draco Malfoy?

Sighing, he brought his knuckles down against the door and waited until Madam Pomfrey opened it for him. 

"Do you have any idea what time it is, young man? I have patients trying to sleep!" Dumbledore was right. She didn't seem thrilled.

The Boy Who Lived cringed slightly. "Dumbledore sent me to see Malfoy."

Pomfrey's expression softened slightly and she moved aside to let Harry in. "Oh. I see. Follow me."

The two made their way to the back of the infirmary to a very unobtrusive, normal looking door. Pomfrey eased it open and gestured for Harry to go in, and he did.

It looked like the rest of the wing except for the fact that there were no windows. As the door clicked shut behind him, he noted that the only source of light in the room was a candle on the bedside table, which provided little illumination.

Harry drew closer and pulled a chair over to the bed, sitting down and studying its occupant.

In the soft glow of the candle, Harry could easily make out the familiar features of the blond Slytherin. The first thing he noticed was that Draco appeared to be asleep; the second, that he was far paler than Harry remembered.

The third observation came completely unbidden: Malfoy looked… pretty. Harry was appalled to find himself thinking such things, but didn't really notice as his hand crept forward of its own accord to rest against his adversary's cheek. He tilted his head to one side and gently caressed the skin beneath the blonde's eye. Cold, smooth, extremely soft…

"Hello, Potter."

Harry jerked back violently, almost toppling out of his chair in surprise. Apparently, the boy wasn't sleeping. 

Snickering, Draco opened his eyes and propped himself up on his elbow, clearly amused. "Glad to see you like my face so much, but I'd appreciate it if you kept your hands off."

_Well, I see this experience hasn't affected his charming personality_, Harry thought sardonically.

"Oh, so now I'm charming as well? If I didn't know better, I'd say you fancy me, Potter."

Harry had come to terms with the fact that he liked boys as well as girls two years ago in fourth year when he had developed a crush on Cedric. Needless to say, when the boy had died, it had been more of a shock to him than most people realized. But_ Malfoy? There was no way in __hell he fancied that Slytherin scum. No way. If he—wait a minute. How did Malfoy know what he'd been thinking?_

Smirking, the blonde sat up completely, pushing his slightly mussed hair back from his face. "Don't know much about vampires, do you, Potter? Most are gifted with telepathy, and later even telekinesis. Quite fascinating, really."

Harry groaned. Malfoy really _did have the upper hand now._

"So, why are you here?" All amusement vanished from his rival's features as quickly as it had come, startling Harry slightly with the sheer fluidity of the change of expression. His eyes, Harry noticed as well, were… different. Rather than just being the normal gray, they seemed to be several other colors as well: blue, slate, pale violet.

"Er… Dumbledore sent me to come… see you," Harry said slowly.

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Why?"

"I don't know. I think he wanted me to see you before I made my decision. Like he thought maybe I'd take pity on you and change my mind." Harry shook his head at the absurd thought.

"What decision?" But Draco was taking the answer from Harry's mind before the question was fully formed. After a lengthy pause, in which the Gryffindor felt no real need to answer, he went on, "… Donor system? With professors or prefects watching over, I assume." He sniffed disdainfully. "How very… rude."

"Rude?"

Draco didn't explain; he didn't really want to try to put into words the intimacy he had felt with that stranger, that vampire, when he had been held close and had his blood taken from him. "Nevermind. So, the old man wants you in this group, does he? What makes him think you'd actually agree to such a thing?"

"I don't know…" Harry mumbled.

"I suppose he's trying to appeal to your hero's ego. Have to help those that can't help themselves, don't you, Potter?"

Harry clenched his fists on the arms of the chair, digging his nails into the cushioning. "He's trying to help you, Malfoy. The least you could do is show a little gratitude."

"Help me? I would do quite well on my own."

"What, hunting the students? There's not way you'd get away with it."

"Wouldn't I?"

Harry was pushed back into the chair as Draco's hands grasped his shoulders, and the blonde leaned in so close their noses touched.

"I could kill you right now, Potter. Kill you, run from this room, and escape out a window. I'd be off the grounds before anyone knew what happened."

Their enmity towards one another had been growing steadily, and Harry didn't doubt that, given the chance, Draco _would_ kill him.

With those thoughts in mind, he squirmed uncomfortably and tried to push Draco away, but the other boy wouldn't budge and his grip was like cold steel.

"What's wrong? Scared, Potter?" Draco flashed a vicious smile and Harry saw the two small, sharp fangs for the first time. "You should be."

"Get off, Malfoy…" Harry growled. He wouldn't admit it, but he _was_ scared, because he knew Draco was right.

Wordlessly, Draco moved his hands down to rest on Harry's forearms, pinning them to the chair, and slid off the bed and into Harry's lap.

"Malfoy…" Harry said cautiously. He couldn't move and he was having trouble keeping the fear from his expression. Draco could do anything he wanted to him.

Draco moved his head to the side and Harry felt a cool puff of breath against his neck. All of a sudden, he knew exactly what Draco meant to do and started thrashing violently beneath him.

"Malfoy, cut it out! Get off me!" Harry cried frantically. He couldn't seem to push him away, and Draco didn't seem to be listening.

Harry felt the soft lips against his neck, the acute sting of fangs pressing into the skin over his jugular but not yet piercing it.

"Draco! Draco, don't! Please!" His tone was desperate now.

The lips were gone, though he could tell they still hovered just over the flesh.

"… What?" Draco pulled back to look Harry in the eyes, his tone dead calm. "What did you just say?"

"I… I asked you to.. to stop…" Harry stumbled confusedly. Then it hit him: he had said "Draco" instead of "Malfoy." He had never done that before. _Never_.

Draco slowly released his hold on Harry and climbed back into bed, still staring at him oddly. "I think you'd better go, Potter. Don't want to fall asleep in class tomorrow, do you?" And with that, the blonde laid back down and rolled over with his back to Harry, bringing a definite end to the conversation. 

With a confused sigh, the Gryffindor got up and exited the room, leaving the hospital wing after a quiet goodnight to Madam Pomfrey.


	2. Chapter II: The Decision

Eeeeee, mucho thanks to everyone who reviewed: chinae, Minerva-Severus-Dumbledor, Zahrah Radcliffe, Landell, Diana Malfoy, Blue Rosed Dragon, Reika, Scythe, Ivy, Lanevaly, Lisette, Cherrygal3, Onyx, Joe-Jack(thanks for pushin' me, best enemy!), and spaceflawer5. Thank you all so much!

Anyway, I apologize for this update taking so long. . It's kind of a boring chapter, and it ended up being shorter than the last one. Boring chapters take longer to write. Eh. But the next chapter should be out sooner, 'cause it's not so boring. *Nods* And… let's see… Oh, I denno. ^^;; Just enjoy. Suggestions, tips, an' all that jazz are welcome.

Chapter II: The Decision

Harry stared up at the top of his four-poster, unable to sleep. His walk hadn't helped; the little visit with Draco had destroyed any shot at a good night's rest. He had honestly thought that the blonde was going to kill him. But…

He raised a hand to his neck, running his fingers gingerly over the area of skin Draco had nearly broken, and shivered. He could still feel two tiny indentations. Everything was just too weird.

Ron, Seamus, and the others were still sound asleep, unaware of his little troubles. He could hear Neville's quiet snores and Ron's nonsensical sleep-babble. For a minute, he thought to wake his redheaded friend, but then dismissed it. No use in bothering anyone else with what was most likely nothing at all.

He rolled over in the soft bed, trying to get more comfortable, but he knew it was useless. He would get no sleep this night. So he turned his thoughts to Dumbledore's request. For some far-out reason, he was actually toying with the idea of agreeing to it. But that would be playing right into the hands of the enemy. That would give Draco numerous opportunities to finish him. So what if there were guards? Murders can be very quick. 

_But he didn't kill me tonight_, he mused. _The perfect chance and he didn't do it. So why would he choose some other, riskier time?_

Nothing was making sense. Why had he called Malfoy by his first name? _Why? Fright? Anger? Well, Harry knew from experience that it wasn't anger._

He wondered idly how long it would be until he had to get up and rolled over again, curling up with his arms pulled in against his chest. A small gasp escaped him as his fingers brushed again roughly over the side of his neck. Gods, that spot was so _sensitive_ now. It was annoying.

He pulled his hand down out of the way and shut his eyes determinedly.

* * *

"Get up, Harry. Come on, it's time for breakfast."

Harry opened his eyes drowsily to look up into Ron's face as the redhead shook him gently.

"Nmmm…?" he said incoherently. Had he fallen asleep?

"Time for breakfast," Ron repeated. "Get dressed."

Harry pushed himself up out of bed reluctantly as his friend went down into the common room.

_Probably in a hurry to see Hermione_, Harry thought absently as he grabbed some clean clothes and a school robe and headed off toward the bathroom to take a shower. His two friends had gotten together towards the end of the previous year and had tried setting him up with someone several times since. Needless to say, they had failed so far.

He stripped quickly and moved into the warm spray of water, closing his eyes and letting it wash over him and take the sleepiness with it down the drain.

He cleaned himself rather lazily, and as the water hit his neck, he felt a dull tingle. Just a shadow of the sensation it had been before.

That brought his thoughts back around to Draco. No, not Draco. Malfoy.

As he turned the water off, he realized he had already made up his mind. When he saw Dumbledore later, he would give his answer. His consensus.

He toweled himself dry, slipped into his clothes, and made his way out to the Great Hall, where most of the students were gathered already for breakfast.

"Morning, Harry," Hermione said brightly as he sat down across from her and Ron, whose mouth was occupied with a spoonful of porridge.

"Morning," Harry replied as he grabbed himself a piece of toast and began smearing a generous amount of butter over it.

"So, either of you know what happened to Malfoy?" Hermione asked in a conversational tone. "The Slytherins are having a right fit. Not even Crabbe and Goyle know where he is. They say he went out late last night and didn't come back." She halted to stare at Harry curiously. "Are you feeling okay, Harry?"

"Huh?"

"You're buttering your hand."

"Er… I'm fine," Harry said as he set down the knife and reached for a napkin to wipe his hand off.

Ron raised a brow at him and swallowed before saying, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He had simply been debating on whether or not he should tell Ron and Hermione what he knew and had ceased to pay attention to what he was doing.

"… You know something, don't you?" said Hermione after a brief pause.

The question caught Harry a little off guard. "W-what?"

She lowered her voice. "You know something about Malfoy."

Okay. He'd tell them. But not here, not now. Someone might overhear, and then it'd be all over the school.

"Meet me in the library at lunch, okay?" Harry said quietly.

Both his friends nodded and said no more about it, simply finishing their breakfasts then going their separate ways for their first class.

When Potions (a class the trio had together) rolled around, Harry was practically dead on his feet. Apparently he hadn't slept very long last night.

He started slightly as Ron prodded him in the ribs when he began to doze off again.

"Come on, Harry. Now's not the time to be falling asleep in class. Snape is worked up enough as it is," he whispered. "Without his favorite little snake here he's in a real sour mood, so of course he's taking it out on the class. Well," Ron paused to look over at the side of the dungeon the Slytherins occupied, "he's taking it out on the Gryffindors anyway."

Harry groaned but he knew Ron was right. He really couldn't afford to fall asleep anyway; Snape was assigning a pretty difficult potion and it was rather hard to take notes with his eyes closed and his head down on the desk.

He felt a little sorry for Snape, though. He hadn't realized the professor actually cared so much for Draco—Malfoy—until last night.

"Professor?" Pansy called out loudly, interrupting Snape's lecture on the use of scarab shells in their current potion.

He sighed agitatedly and replied, "Yes, Miss Parkinson?"

"Where's Draco?"

A hush fell over the dungeon as everyone stopped what they were doing to listen.

Snape faltered for a moment before clearing his throat purposefully. "Mr. Malfoy's current location is irrelevant to this lesson, Miss Parkinson."

"But—"

"I refuse to answer any questions not pertaining to the topic at hand."

"But Professor—"

"That is the _end_ of this discussion, Miss Parkinson." Snape's voice was hard and cold, worse than usual.

Pansy stared down at her desk sullenly, and Harry and Ron exchanged a private glance. Snape had just gotten onto one of the students of his own house. 

Lunch finally arrived, and it found Harry pacing back and forth in the rear of the library, waiting for his companions. They got there quickly enough, and the three retreated to a secluded corner where they could talk without the risk of being overheard.

"Okay, Harry," said Hermione quietly as they all took a seat at the small table, "what's going on?"

"Malfoy was attacked last night," Harry replied, getting right to the point.

"Attacked by what?"

"A vampire."

A smug sort of grin worked itself onto Ron's lips. "So that bloody prat finally got what was coming to him."

"I wouldn't count on it, Ron," Harry mumbled.

"What?"

"The vampire… turned him. He's in the hospital wing right now, in a private room without any windows."

"… _What_!?"

Hermione looked a little scared. She was no doubt remembering all the times Malfoy had fixed her with his cold, malicious stare, whispered "mudblood" loudly as she passed him in the hall, smirked at her, taunted her.

"Hush, Ron!" Harry hissed.

The redhead was positively furious. "That slimy git is a _vampire now!?"_

"Ron! Be quiet!"

Ron was about to say something else, but Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth and gave him a stern look, and he calmed down a bit. 

"There's something more, isn't there, Harry?" she asked as she withdrew her hand.

Of all the times for Hermione to be her usual perceptive self…

"Well, Dumbledore said something about getting a group of some of the older students together to… act as donors for Malfoy's new appetite," Harry said slowly, thinking as he spoke.

"And he wants you to be one of them," Hermione supplied.

"Yeah…" He saw Ron was about to make an unneeded comment and continued: "The weird part is… I think I'm going to do it."

"What!?" The redhead was on his feet in an instant. "Why in hell would you do something like that!?"

"Shh, Ron! Sit down!" Hermione commanded in a harsh whisper, but she was ignored.

"Harry, honestly! He'll _kill_ you, and you know it!"

Harry looked up at his best friend and shook his head. "… No. I really don't think he will."

"Why the hell wouldn't he?"

"… Because he didn't last night."

That evening, Harry made it a point to find Dumbledore right after dinner. The headmaster was waiting, as he suspected, in the same classroom in which they had spoken together the night before.

"Have you come to a decision then, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired of him.

"I'll do it."

"Ah, very good. Tonight, however, I advise you to stay clear of Mr. Malfoy's room. We have appointed someone else for him this evening and that someone has not stopped in yet, so the hour finds him rather unlike himself."

_Rather unlike himself?_

"Okay, I'll avoid it," Harry answered. Of course, he had no intention of doing so.

Dumbledore regarded him silently for a moment, that familiar twinkle in his eyes, that twinkle that, to Harry, meant that the man knew something and wasn't sharing. 

"Very well then," he said finally. "How does Friday sound to you?"

"Fine," Harry replied.

"Ah, good. Nine o' clock Friday evening then, in this room. If anything changes, I'll be sure and let you know."

Harry nodded his understanding as the headmaster left, and as soon as the older man was out of sight, he rushed back to the Gryffindor dorms to grab his invisibility cloak. 

"Where are you going?" Ron asked as Harry was exiting the portrait hole.

"Er… for a walk?"

"Why're you taking that?" He gestured to the cloak. "We don't have to be in our dorms yet, Harry. No need to sneak around." He paused and raised a brow when his friend didn't reply. "Unless you're going somewhere you shouldn't."

"Not too hard to figure out, is it?"

Ron's eyes darkened. "You're not going to see _him, are you?"_

"I'm just going to take a quick peek, really. I've never seen a vampire before now, I'm curious. Even if it is Malfoy," Harry said rapidly, trying to get it all out before Ron could protest.

"Harry, I don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm glad you care, Ron, really, but I'm going anyway." 

"Harry—!"

But Harry was already out the door and halfway to the infirmary, cloak pulled tightly around him. 


	3. Chapter III: The First Time

jliles - Thankies! 

Redmeadow - Glad you're enjoying it! ^^

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cherish chang - Wow, one of _my stories is making it onto someone's favorites list? *Shocked... in a good way*_

Air dragon - BWAHAHAHAAA! Yes. I am evil. Inherently so.

beautifulelf - Yes, he _is yummy. ^^ Mmm, Draco..._

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mistress_siryn - They are!? WHOOHOO!

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She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psyc - Yes yes! Draco's sire is revealed! *Dramatic chord* And as to "Interview With the Vampire," yes. I'm obsessed with Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, so don't be surprised to see some similarities.

Scythe - ^^ Thanks!

Lanevaly - o.O Gah, yes it was. Quit lying. Everyone who says that chapter was interesting is _lying_. *Hiss*

Maddy - I'm surprised it's not all.. overlydarkandallthatotherstuffyousaid... yeah. 'Cause.. I'm like that. Bah. I denno. ^^;; I still think it was boring... And I've always liked the idea of someone buttering their hand.

Kimmy - Oooh, he is. Sexy Draco. Rawr.

hyalite - Thanks!

prout115 - Yay, here it is!

Joe Jack - ^^ I "WUV" YOU TOO, HI-CHAN! And I am writing more! Really!

The Observer - KEEP YOUR PENGUINS AWAY!

Phoenix Tears - PHFT! Draco doesn't fall helpessly into ANYONE'S arms!

Mak - I'm glad too! ^^

Lunadeath - o.O I gave someone shivers? Sweetness.

Blue Rosed Dragon - I stopped there 'cause I'm a cruel person. I guarantee cliffhangers in the future. ^^

Onyx - *Giggles* What can I say? I like butter. . I'm not usually that funny though. I denno what happened. 

Amber Wind - Yes, I am returned! And... here's the next chapter!

LOOKIT, EVERYONE! ^^ This chapter is out so much faster than the last one! Be amazed! Whooo! So, um… here ya go, people. Enjoy. I'll go get started on the next one. (Hey, all this stuff makes the chapter look longer. ^^ Hee.)

Chapter III: The First Time

It had been somewhat of a chore getting around Madam Pomfrey. That woman seemed to be everywhere at once, bustling about the place as if the world were going to come to a stop at any moment, and there were only two patients that Harry could see.

He snuck back to the room he knew to be Draco's and eased the door open gently, slipping inside. He let the cloak fall from his shoulders as he pulled the door shut behind him soundlessly, then turned to find the fledgling vampire he had come looking for.

Things were much the same as before. The room was dark and Draco was curled up on the bed again, but this time his back was turned to Harry.

He stalked a bit closer, quietly as he could, but came to an abrupt halt as the form on the mattress shuddered.

He held his breath, waiting for any other signs of movement, and when none came he resumed his slow walk forward.

"Get out, Potter."

It came from the bed, but it didn't really sound all that much like Draco. The voice was quiet, strained, and quavered with forced self-restraint.

Harry stopped again and called out tentatively, "Malfoy?"

"Get **_out_**, Potter, I'm warning you." Okay, it was definitely Malfoy. But what was the warning for?

"Malfoy, I just came to tell you that—"

Harry was pinned to the wall beside the bed before he could finish his sentence. Draco's hands had a hold of his wrists, pressing them into the rough stone, and the blonde's body held him firmly in place. He couldn't move.

"You don't listen very well, do you, Potter?" Draco spat, his lips at Harry's ear. "Dumbledore told you to stay away and I told you to leave, twice even, yet here you are. Whatever happens now is the product of your own stupidity."

Harry pushed at the Slytherin with all the strength he could muster, but as before, Draco wouldn't budge.

"Get off, Malfoy!" Harry shouted, continuing his feeble attempt to free himself.

"No, I don't think so. I gave you fair warning, Potter. Besides," he paused and tightened his hold on Harry's wrists, and Harry could practically hear the smirk in his voice, "I don't think I could if I wanted to."

"Malfoy!"

There was a brush of cool lips against his neck, following swiftly by a sharp, piercing pain, and some small noise of protest caught itself in Harry's throat. The world seemed to tilt violently around him and he felt a painful tug at his heart, as if someone had run a thread through it and was now trying to pull it from his chest. He clung to Draco instinctively, barely even registering the fact that the blonde had dragged them both down to the floor.

"Nn.. Malfoy, s-stop…" Harry managed, a low moan escaping him. No, wait. It wasn't from him. It was from Malfoy.

Draco was crushing Harry against him, drawing hard at the wound he had made in the Gryffindor's soft skin. Gods, it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. The blood of that rogue vampire that had turned him had been different, like some sweet elixir. But _this_, this was heavenly. It was thick and rich and _alive and it filled him completely. _

He was swooning with it, loving it, but the flow was subtly slowing. With a sudden shock he realized that, if he didn't stop, Harry would _die. But he couldn't, he just couldn't. It was so good and he wanted it so badly._

Harry was limp in Draco's arms now, each rise and fall of his chest becoming increasingly difficult, but the initial pain of the bite had long since faded into a dull, throbbing ecstasy. His ears and his mind were filled with a gentle pounding, like a pair of steady kettledrums, but one was gradually slowing down. He tried to ignore the fact that this was his heartbeat and attempted instead to concentrate on remaining conscious.

"Stop before he's dead, childe."

Harry found himself on the floor as Draco started and dropped him, then turned to face the speaker, someone who had not been in the room a moment before.

It was a strange man, tall and pale, with well-groomed ebony hair that fell in curls to his shoulders. He was dressed in a stylishly cut black Italian suit and looked rather prim and immaculate as he leaned back against the bedside table, arms folded over his chest.

"Stop before he's dead," the man repeated, "or he'll drag you down with him."

"_You_…" Draco whispered once he had shaken off the trance-like torpor that had claimed him with the first draught of blood.

The man only smiled and tilted his head, as if waiting for Draco to go on.

"You," Draco said again, "you did this!"

"Glad you remember me," the man remarked jovially, pushing off from the table and walking around the end of the bed in a leisurely manner, his movements smooth and graceful. "I daresay I was in a rather nasty state of disarray when last we met. I was afraid you might not recognize me."

"What do you want?" Draco demanded coldly, glaring at the man. He really hadn't expected to see him ever again.

"Only to teach you, my beautiful childe. That was your first lesson." He paused and gave another genial smile. "And to introduce myself, of course."

Draco backed away as the man bowed elegantly. 

"My name is Corbin. Surnames are unimportant at the moment." He glanced at the crumpled form that was Harry, sapphire eyes gleaming, and his smile became a bit more vicious. "I see you've already taken your first victim. Very good. Right proud of you, I am."

Draco's face went blank for a moment. He had completely forgotten about Harry. He turned back to look at the human, managing an expression of impenetrable indifference. He could still hear the faint heartbeat.

"Right you are, he's not dead," Corbin said, commenting on Draco's unspoken observation. "Not yet at least. I didn't feel it was safe to let you come so close to death. You are still a 'newborn,' if you will."

Draco was trying to be angry, but his confusion won out. "Why did you—"

"All questions will be answered in time. Come with me. The night is young; I'll tell you my reasons and everything you need to know."

"But…" Draco began hesitantly, sparing another glance at Harry.

"Don't worry. I'll have you back before dawn and we can take care of him upon our return. Have faith, childe."

"… No," Draco said after a few moments. "No. I won't let you order me around like that."

Corbin gave a surprised laugh. "Defiant as ever. That's one of the reasons I chose you. But my dear boy, how wrong you are." He reached forward and cupped Draco's cheek before he could pull away. "You're mine now, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Draco's face grew hard and cold. He wasn't very keen on the idea of belonging to someone.

"So when I tell you to do something, you do it, no questions asked," Corbin went on evenly.

"No," Draco said again. "I won't. I refuse to be some mindlessly obedient drone."

"Childe, you don't have a choice."

Draco found himself suddenly in his sire's arms and the two were out of the room and through one of the infirmary windows before he could make another protest.

* * *

When Harry opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he couldn't see much of anything; his vision was blurred terribly. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying in a bed and three figures stood at the foot, conversing heatedly and obviously unaware that he had woken up.

With a quiet groan, he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but his arms gave out almost immediately and he fell back against the mattress. He felt tired, weak, light-headed.

One of the figures walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at him before saying softly, "You really shouldn't be trying to get up so soon, Harry."

_Dumbledore_, he thought as he recognized the voice.

His glasses were handed to him and he slipped them on, causing the world to slide into focus, and he identified the other two people as Snape and McGonagall.

"You lost quite a bit of blood," the headmaster continued, his tone a touch more grave, "so you will be staying here for the next few days, until you regain your strength."

In a flash, Harry remembered everything that had happened. How long ago had it been? A few hours? A few days? It was impossible for him to tell.

"Where is he?" he asked dazedly.

"We… aren't sure," Dumbledore answered thoughtfully, eyes on Harry. "When Madam Pomfrey went to check on him and found you unconscious on the floor, he was already gone. We were hoping maybe you could tell us."

"Potter," Snape broke in sharply, "you were _expressly warned away from that room! You deliberately disobeyed orders!"_

Harry cringed, but he knew Snape was right. He really hadn't had a reason to be in there and therefore had no excuse to give now.

"Please, Severus. That may be true, but that doesn't cover the fact that Malfoy is now a _danger_ to the students, and the faculty as well," McGonagall said sternly.

"And what do you propose we do about it?" Snape's tone was scathing, as was his glance at Harry.

"We might ought to consider moving him somewhere else, somewhere that holds less temptation for him."

Snape seemed infuriated by this, but wasn't given a chance to say anything else.

"Before we do anything," Dumbledore said, "we need to _find Mr. Malfoy. Any ideas, Harry?"_

"Not really, sir…" Harry replied, but then he paused. "I… I think I remember someone else being in the room right before I blacked out."

All three professors seemed about to ask something, so he added hastily, "But I didn't get a good look at him."

"Wonderful…" Snape murmured flatly.

"Severus, Minerva, I want you both to gather the little group we've formed that knows of Mr. Malfoy's change and get them out looking for him," Dumbledore stated firmly, taking on that odd, softened commanding tone once more.

The two professors exited silently and Harry was left alone with the headmaster, Madam Pomfrey nowhere in sight.

"Well… I assume you know now why I didn't want you in his room." It wasn't a question.

"Uhm… yeah," Harry responded. "I'm sorry, Professor. I was just…"

"You were curious. I understand. But you could have very easily been killed this evening."

"I-I know…"

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment before he continued. "Do you still wish to be a donor for Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry was surprised at the ease with which the answer came. "Yes."

"Very well." Dumbledore stood slowly and moved towards to door. "I'll let you get some rest now, Harry. Goodnight."

"Goodnight…" Harry said with a quiet sigh as he set his glasses on the side table and closed his eyes.


	4. Chapter IV: The Confrontation

Maddy - ^^ Thanks!

Amber Wind - ^^;; I'm not really that fast. Look how long this one took!

destinywriters - o.O Wow. Glad you like it so much. ^^

Ging - NO! BAD GINGER! I'm not gonna kill Corbie and I'm not gonna give you any spoilers or special info. *Sticks out tongue*

Phoenix Tears - Of _course Draco is vicious. ^^_

Scythe - Ask and you shall receive!

the_true_silver - Meeeebbe he will. 

Mak - Whoo, I impressed someone! ^^;;

Blue Rosed Dragon - I stopped there 'cause... it seemed like a good place to stop. And I wanted to get a chapter up. ^^

kyotyred - Thank you!

The Observer - Sankyuuu! NO PENGUINS!

cassie - o.O Uhm.. thanks...?

paws10081 - Here y'are.

Onyx - Thanks much! I wasn't sure whether that was the right move or not, bringing in an OC, seeing as how I don't really like them... ^^;;

LadyVader - That's, uhm... er... I denno. Here is your sustenance. 

Saturn Vampiress - ^^ The strawberry thing only works with Woody, Chloe. But I'll keep writing anyway.

TexasFox - ¬_¬ ... Thanks, Ging.

Kimmy - I'm not sure yet. Dark side? *Brings up an image of Draco as Darth Vader* o.O Uhm... I denno.

Lunadeath - But at the same time what? You did? *Giggles* Bad person.

Whee, new chapter! Rejoice, peons! I denno. You're not peons. Really. I didn't mean that. . Uhm… Yeah. So have fun, people. I guess I'll go start on the next one. I'm surprised I haven't gotten writer's block yet. But I bet I'll have it since I said that… Bleeeh. Curse it all.

Chapter IV: The Confrontation

He next few days were uneventful. As far as anyone knew, Draco was still missing. Harry was required to stay in bed and rest most of the time, and Madam Pomfrey forbade any visitors save for the professors, Ron, and Hermione, the last two of which brought his homework and the various get well gifts from other students (most of which were sweets).

Though they sent gifts, the students were confused. They had no idea why Harry had been put up in the first place, though the rumor was starting that he had caught a strange strain of the flu for which there was no quick cure.

Ron and Hermione asked no questions; they didn't need to, for it was simple to guess what had happened by the now barely visible puncture wounds and Harry's reluctance to talk about it. Harry was grateful for that and missed their company when they had to leave. Being alone gave him too much time to think.

He was loathe to find that his neck was sensitive once again, and every time something pressed or brushed against the place where Draco had sunk his teeth, Harry had to stifle a moan and push down unwanted thoughts and memories of the blond vampire.

Finally, after days of restlessness, Harry was allowed to return to classes and resume his normal schedule.

He got several greetings as he made his way down to the dungeons for Potions: "Hi, Harry"s and "All right, Harry?"s and "Nasty bug, that was"s.

The majority of the school was also under the impression that Draco had been infected with the same illness and had not yet recovered.

He walked into the dungeon and took his normal seat beside Ron, who looked about half-asleep. Harry was surprised he was even in there already. Class started shortly after and Snape began his day's lecture, a continuation of some of the homework Harry had had while he was out.

"The mandrake root is _essential_. If you do not add it, or do not add the correct amount, there's no telling _what you might end up with. Are you listening, Longbottom?"_

Neville jumped at Snape's question and nodded hastily. "Y-yes sir!"

Ron elbowed Harry in the side as Snape started up again and whispered, "Is it just me or is he being worse than usual today?"

"It's not just you," Harry whispered back. "Dra—er, Malfoy's still not back yet. He's worried. The professors have no idea where he is."

"Do you know?"

"Well…" Harry paused hesitantly.

"C'mon, Harry," Ron prodded.

"… Someone else was in the room that night. I think it was.. the one who turned Malfoy. I didn't really get a good look at him, and I can't remember much of what was said. Not to mention it didn't make a lot of sense to me then anyway. But I'm pretty sure that, whoever he was, he took Malfoy."

"Took him where?"

"I don't know… He said something about 'lessons,' I think, and—"

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. Something you'd like to share with the rest of us?" Snape inquired icily.

"Uh… no, Professor," Harry replied a bit sheepishly. He should've known their little chat wouldn't remain unnoticed.

"Well, the two of you certainly were doing a lot of talking over there. Discussing the lesson, no doubt." Sarcasm with Snape was never a good thing.

"Er… yes sir."

The Potions master rolled his eyes. "Twenty points from Gryffindor."

Ron made a face. "But—"

"Each."

The two boys shut their mouths and the Slytherins snickered quietly. Hermione gave them a sympathetic look from her place next to Neville, but it was followed by a reprimanding, "you should've been paying attention" finger wag.

"Now then," Snape said loudly, putting a stop to the sniggering and hushed whispers, "for this concoction, what sort of tool would I use for—"

The doors eased open softly at the back of room and Snape stopped, looking rather irritated about being interrupted again, but the expression soon vanished as Draco stepped into the room.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor," he said simply as he sat down beside Pansy Parkinson, whose face lit up like a Christmas tree.

Harry and Ron exchanged a disbelieving glance.

Some of the vampire lore was pure fiction, but other parts were true. The crucifix bit, for example, would get you absolutely nowhere. It was a fabrication. But it was common knowledge that vampires couldn't bear sunlight. Their blood combusted if they were exposed to it. Yet here was Draco, completely unharmed. Granted, the dungeons were dark, but outside the castle it was a different story. Had he gotten in before dawn? The Slytherin dorms were down here as well. But if he had, why hadn't he told anyone? For it was quite plain that Snape knew nothing of Draco's return.

The Slytherin half of the dungeon grew loud, everyone greeting Draco and asking how he was, if that Potter idiot had gotten him sick.

After the commotion died down, Snape questioned, "Mr. Malfoy, did you complete your work while you were out?"

"No," Draco answered nonchalantly.

"Well, have it in by tomorrow."

Parvati Patil jumped up at the back of the room and exclaimed, "Hey, that's not fair! Harry had to turn in his work today!"

"Yeah!" piped up Lavender Brown. "And he got an afternoon's detention for not having completed one of the assignments!"

The two sides of the room were in a fierce argument when Harry yelled out:

"Let it go! Malfoy had it worse than me, okay?"

All eyes turned to him and he promptly sank down in his seat. Had Harry Potter just defended _Draco Malfoy_? Even Snape was giving him an odd look. He caught a glimpse of Draco, who had one slender brow arched in question, and immediately turned away as a faint tingling began in his neck.

The class went on with a false sense of normalcy, but one Harry was glad of, and he was more than happy to go onto his next class, one he shared with no one who had been present during the odd display.

When lunch rolled around he was back in the library, and he was less than surprised when Ron and Hermione showed up and the former began bombarding him with questions.

He _was_ surprised, however, when Draco waltzed in shortly after.

"Weasley, Granger," he greeted cordially. Then his eyes focused on Harry and he smirked, revealing the faintest bit of fang. "Potter."

"You bloody bastard!" Ron shouted immediately.

"I suppose they know all about our little tête-à-tête, hm? Just can't keep your mouth shut, can you, Potter?"

"For your information," Hermione interjected, "he didn't tell us anything. It wasn't hard to figure out. You should be glad those marks on his neck are pretty well covered by his robes."

"Oh come on," Draco countered with a smug chuckle, "Potter's a popular fellow. I'm certain he could pass it off as a love bite."

"What the hell do you want, Malfoy?" Ron demanded.

"Oh, just a few words with Potter here."

"Well, have them and leave."

"A few _private_ words, if you don't mind."

"We _do_ mind, actually," said Ron angrily. "You're daft if you think we're going to leave him alone with you!" His ears were nearly the same shade of red as his hair.

"What's wrong, Weasley? Jealous?"

"Why you—!"

"Boys, boys!" Hermione cut in, placing a restraining hand on Ron's shoulder. She looked at Draco. "If Harry wants to talk to you, fine. But I won't have you or anyone else," she paused to glance at Ron, "making decisions for him."

Once again, all eyes were on Harry, who had been rather silent for the past few minutes.

"… Wait for me in the Great Hall. I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said finally.

"Twenty minutes!?" Ron repeated, aghast. "Surely it won't take twenty minutes for him to tell you that he's a damn—"

"Okay, Harry. Twenty minutes," said Hermione calmly as she steered a protesting Ron out of the library.

Harry turned to face Draco. "Okay, Malfoy, what did you want to talk about?"

Draco didn't answer; he merely looked at Harry for a moment and then proceeded to shove him back into a more out-of-the-way area.

"W-what the hell are you—"

"Okay, Potter," Draco said flatly, jabbing Harry in the chest with an elegant finger, "what exactly are you trying to pull? Dumbledore told me you're still doing the whole donor thing, and then you go and act all… weird in Potions. One might think you really _did_ fancy me."

"Don't get ahead of yourself there, Malfoy. I don't have to explain myself to you," Harry retorted, suddenly defensive. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that his back was about two inches from being pressed into a bookcase, which hindered any plans of escape should he require one. "And how did you just saunter into class like that? It was afternoon. When did you get back?"

"No reasons from you, no answers from me."

"Why do you need me to tell you? Why don't you just rifle through my mind?"

"I can't pull out answers you don't have, Potter. Wondering if you'd have a ready excuse for me."

Harry simply didn't have anything to throw back. He mustered up his best glare and said stonily, "Are you done yet?"

The scowl was gone as Draco yanked down Harry's collar and pressed his thumb firmly to the fading marks in his neck, eliciting a throaty moan from the Gryffindor as his knees threatened to buckle.

"Don't think for a minute I don't have you at my mercy, Potter," Draco whispered dangerously. "I _know_ you now. I know your strengths, your weaknesses. I see the way you look at me sometimes, with more than just fear or annoyance or rivalry. Granger's noticed it too, and even that dolt Weasley knows something's up. But you're still oblivious." He smirked and was suddenly standing several feet away, leaving Harry to catch himself before he fell. "I'm finished now. See you later, Potter."

Harry leaned back against the bookcase as soon as Draco was out of sight, thankful that the library was blissfully empty. What was _wrong with him? He knew his heart wasn't pounding out of sheer fright. He didn't want to think about this. Not now, not ever. It wasn't _his_ fault that bite had been so… erotic. So intimate. These were just after effects. But they were still driving him crazy._

He put on his best resolve face and pulled his collar back up, brushing his robes off with his other hand. Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. 


	5. Chapter V: Break Me, Shake Me pt 1

Joe Jack - ^^ Yeah, I know, huh? I'm not a very good verbal storyteller. And sankyu!

cassie - Yeah, he doesn't, doesn't he? ^^;;

silver_elven_fox - Much thanks!

kyotyred - Glad you're enjoying it. ^^;; I just love vampires…

wintermoon - Uhm.. better late than never, ne? Eheh…

PeachDancer82 - *Giggles* Iunno, you'll just hafta wait an' see.

Onyx - Dun dun dun! All will be revealed! ^^;; And thanks so much! It's surprising how easy it is to work with someone else's creations. Then you get'a skip all the character development and dive right into plotness. 

TexasFox - … Yeah. Real scared there, Ging. *Cough, cough*

She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psyc - Though I love Masquerade dearly, I didn't base this off of their system because I don't really like it for this type of setting. As to the mind reading thing, once again, I'm going with Ricean principles, and if you will recall, fledglings can hear the thoughts of others quite clearly. Well, except for Louis. . But we won't talk about him. As for having one of the established characters be Draco's sire, well, none of them are vampires, are they? And I really didn't feel like doing that. Meh. To your last question… what? What _are you talking about? o.O _

Phoenix Tears - Well, Draco tries.. uhm… something. ^^;;

Mak - ^^;; Thanks, but I kinda bombed on this chapter, huh? Took me freaking forever…

Lunadeath - Sorry, but it's shorter, actually. ^^;; I think my muse died there for a little while…

pixie-chan - Thanks! And I will tell all! … Eventually. Sorry it didn't come very soon.

paws10081 - Here ya go.

proutjj - Continuing!

Air dragon - ^^ Me too.

Malfoy Snogger - Maaaaaybe, maaaaaybe not. 

Teibairn - Sorry!!! ;_;

Joe-Jack - Y'don't say? ^^;; And.. well… I did. So here.

cherish chang - ^^ Thanks!

Blue Rosed Dragon - Here's.. uhm… part of it. Hope you're not too dead from the suspense to read it. .

S. Wing - Isn't he!?

Joe-Jack - Okay, okay, lemme alone, I did it!

OKAY, PEOPLE! I know I took freaking forever, an' I'm _reeeeally sorry. Really. I am. I'm also sorry that this chapter is waaaay short, but I'm working on the next one already. I would've just put the two together as _one_ chapter, but I figure, this way, you all know I'm still alive and haven't stopped writing, eh? ^^;; Anyhoo, sorry if I missed anyone on the reviews. Instead of doing it the complicated way I normally do it, I just did everyone who reviewed chapter four. . Thanks to anyone I missed! And much, much thanks to The Observer for pressing me to get this done and helping me along the way! I LOVE YOOOU!_

Chapter V: Break Me, Shake Me (pt. 1)

So you're the kind that deals with the games in the mind

Well, you confuse me in a way that I've never known

You confuse me in a way that I've never known

- Savage Garden, "Break Me, Shake Me"

It was probably a little dangerous for him to be roaming the halls at night now, but he really didn't care. He needed some privacy and quiet, and neither the common room nor the dorms provided anything but noise or constant company.

He hadn't been paying the best attention to where he was heading, so he wasn't entirely sure now where he was. He had climbed several flights of stairs, taken various turns, gone down corridors both familiar and alien. Yet, for some reason, he really wasn't worried about finding his way back. 

This hallway seemed extremely empty, and not just of people. The other halls of the castle were filled with statues and paintings and other odds and ends, but the walls here were next to bare. With a sigh, Harry leaned back against one and slumped down to the floor, closing his eyes.

A good night's sleep was getting harder to come by; he just had too much on his mind. He kept thinking about what Draco had said.

_"I see the way you look at me sometimes, with more than just fear or annoyance or rivalry. Granger's noticed it too, and even that dolt Weasley knows something's up. But you're still oblivious."_

Was that true? Surely not. If he liked Malfoy, he'd know it, right? _Right?_

He jumped slightly as a soft sound, like a footstep, came from the end of the hall, but as the echo faded, he began to wonder if he'd really even heard it at all. That notion was dismissed as the same noise sounded at the other end of the hallway.

_Okay, I think it's time to head back…_ he told himself silently, getting to his feet and straightening his robes. 

He started towards the nearest flight of stairs but whirled around as he felt a cool breeze across the back of his neck. 

Nothing there. Perhaps it was just one of the ghosts or Peeves playing tricks? He shook his head.

_C'mon, Harry, pull yourself together._

He began his descent, but a much louder set of footfalls somewhere near the bottom of the stairs, where he couldn't see, made him back up to the top once more. Someone else was here, toying with him.

His hand went to his wand as he turned around and started down the left path of the hallway, disregarding the stairs for now. Surely there was another way back to the common room.

He didn't get far, however, before his foot came in contact with something hard and he found himself sprawled out on the floor, wand jarred from his hand and sliding several feet on the smooth stone.

He cursed as he pushed himself up on his elbows, nudging his glasses up on his nose, and was met with the image of a shadowed figure towering over him, light hair seeming to glow in the pale moonlight that filtered in through the windows. 

_Malfoy?_

But the figure was gone.

Harry sat up slowly, sparing a cautious glance around. Okay, it was evident now. Malfoy was fucking with him.

He clenched his fists angrily. Wasn't it enough that he practically had Harry in the palm of his hand already?

_No, he's got to go around trying to freak me out in the middle of the night._

He reached out for his wand but froze as he felt a pair of strong arms encircle his waist from behind.

"Well well well, what are you doing out and about so late at night, Potter? It's not safe."

Harry would recognize that sarcastic drawl anywhere. 

"The only reason being that _you_'re here, Malfoy," he shot back, trying to pull away, but, as he suspected, the vampire held strong.

"That really stings, you know. That you would think I was… dangerous." Draco smirked.

"Well you bloody are! Now let go of me so I can get back to the dorms."

"How many times is it now that I've had you in my grasp like this, Potter? Once, twice, three times? One would think you'd learn by now that I'm not going to let go until I'm damn well ready to."

Harry sighed. He knew that was the case, of course. "… Well, what do you want?"

"I want to help you," Draco said simply into his ear.

"Help me? What are you talking about?"

Harry tensed as Draco moved his lips to the side of the Gryffindor's neck, fearing the worst. Maybe "help" was just his way of saying "kill."

"You'll see," the blonde whispered darkly against his neck, and Harry was suddenly aware of a hand snaking up under his robes to hover near the waist of his pants.

Harry pursed his lips and grabbed Draco's hand through the thin black material. "What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

The hand pulled away and began undoing Harry's belt easily, and Draco answered casually, "Absolutely nothing."

Harry's green eyes widened as the hand moved _into his pants, and he jerked sharply in protest, elbowing his captor in the ribs._

"Now now, Potter," Draco cooed sweetly, bringing his free arm around to pin Harry's to his sides, "is that any way to treat someone who's trying to help you?"

"How the hell are you _helping_ me!?"

"You can't even recognize your own desires. It's obvious you need a little incentive."

"I think I can recognize them just fine, thank y—" Harry's retort was cut short as he felt five cool fingers wrap around the most private part of him, caressing him into hardness, and he squirmed against Draco as his cheeks flushed pink, both from embarrassment and something he wasn't ready to accept yet.

"See, now this isn't so bad, is it?" Draco inquired as he pressed a firm kiss to the fading bite marks on Harry's neck, causing the dark haired boy to moan helplessly.

This just wasn't _fair_. He was completely powerless and he hated it. Oh, but it felt so good…

Harry leaned back against the blonde involuntarily, the heat and pressure between his legs becoming near-unbearable with Draco's skillful ministrations.

"Malfoy…" he managed unsteadily, "Oh God… Malfoy, stop…"

But Draco showed no signs of doing any such thing. He merely increased the speed of his hand and nipped at the sensitive flesh of Harry's neck, and Harry knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Everything was just too much, and with a stifled cry as his muscles tightened, he reached his peak and was pushed over the edge into release.

Draco freed him slowly, withdrawing his hand, and got to his feet, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to turn and face him.

"Perhaps you'll sleep better now, hm, Potter?"

Harry clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying anything that might get him in deeper, and was quite surprised to find the vampire right in front of him when he looked up.

He was even _more_ surprised, however, when said vampire leant down and kissed his lips a little less than gently.

Draco pulled away with a smirk. "Goodnight, Potter."

And Harry was alone again, even more confused than before as he tried to catch his breath.


	6. Chapter VI: Break Me, Shake Me pt 2

wintermoon – Heh. ^^ Thanks.

Scythe – My writer's block doesn't seem to care how nicely you ask… . Thanks though.

Lunadeath – It was short, and I'm sorry. ^^;;

Joe-Jack – The Rabid Monkey Bunnies are effin' 3BUL and need to DIE.

The Observer – LOOKIT, I UPDATED! ^––––^

PeachDancer82 – Oh yeah, much mind messing. ^^

Deseri – I OWE YOU NOTHING, GINGER LEE MASTINTA!

proutjj – Thanks. Hopefully Hermione'll be a bit more in-character now then, eh?

Harmoni – ^^ Thanks.

Shania Maxwell – Well, I love vampires and I love HP. Seemed like a logical match. ^^;; And I'm trying.

queenofgondor21 – There'll be fluffy, just not right away. After all, they still don't "like" each other. .

Rain Tenshi – Yeah, me neither, as I have no idea what's gonna happen before I start writing. ^^;;

abekka – *Laughs* Thanks! And, uhm.. you're welcome… ^^;; I think.

otukogirl2005 – I'm an avid Rice fan and a diehard Lestat and Armand obsessor, and so far, my favorite of her Vampire Chronicles has been The Vampire Lestat. 'Cause I love Lestat like nobody's business.

tomomi – Heh. Much thanks, Momi-chan!

Dracavia – Shizzy, a favorite! ^^ Oosh. You might wanna rethink that, as it seems I never update… *Sweatdrops* But anyway. Thanks muchly! After looking for a good D/H vampire fic for longer than I wanna think about, I finally gave up and wrote my own, y'know? And I guess it's goin' okay so far, ne? ^^;;

FakeLover – Oh yes, Draco's totally the mysterious seme. *Hisses at fics in which Draco is made uke* Sankyuu, and sorry the update, didn't come sooner!

blackunicorn – Confusing? Tell me where/how and I'll see if I can't fix it.

MJ – Draco does know a lot about what he's become, but think about it for a moment; in a world with vampires, do you really think people would go uneducated? Anyway though, Draco doesn't know everything, as the general magical populous doesn't know everything. And the spell I think you're talking about, _Lumos__ Solarum, was only used in the film. In the book, the Devil's Snare plant shrank from fire. But anyway, I think Malfoy knows what he's doing to the extent that Harry knows what's going on. Which isn't saying much._

Yes, once again, a long wait followed by a short chapter. My apologies, but it just isn't coming as easily as it was when I began, perhaps because I'm not entirely sure where I'm headed with it. I have some little ideas, but the big picture, though I loathe to admit it, hasn't come to me yet. – –;; So you'll just have to be patient, I suppose. If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them, but not in a review. Either e-mail or IM me (I have AIM, ICQ, and MSN). And much thanks again to The Observer for all her help. ^^ She is lovely and you should say thanks to her, because if she hadn't helped and prodded me along, I doubt you'd have this chapter yet.

WARNING: From here on out, spoilers from the fifth book may be included in chapters. If you haven't read it and don't wish to know what happens, I advise you to be cautious, as this is the only spoiler notice I'll be giving.

Chapter VI: Break Me, Shake Me (pt. 2)

So break me, shake me, hate me, take me over

When the madness stops, then you will be alone

Just break me, shake me, hate me, take me over

When the madness stops, then you will be alone

- Savage Garden, "Break Me, Shake Me"

Draco stepped silently into the private room down in the dungeons that Dumbledore had given him, an unreadable expression on his face, and made his way over to the bed.

_What am I _doing_?_ he thought dismally as he slumped down onto the mattress with a sigh. Tormenting Potter had never gone in _that_ direction before, and he didn't see why it should now. 

"Oh well," he muttered with a shake of his head, followed by the characteristic smirk. "I suppose a little fun and games never hurt." 

"You think so?" inquired a cold, flat voice behind him. Corbin.

Whirling around to face him, Draco demanded, "How did you get in here?"

"What a ridiculous question," the dark haired vampire said disdainfully. "Where have you been?"

Draco didn't answer, but merely followed the other vampire with his eyes as he moved to stand between the bed and the door.

"You smell like a human," Corbin said, the edge of his mouth lifting slightly in disgust, and before Draco could do anything about it, a pair of cold lips were pressed to his own in a bruising kiss. "You taste like one too," was the older vampire's remark as he pulled away.

"What's your point?" Draco asked coolly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"It's that Potter fellow, isn't it?" Corbin demanded, and his demeanor swiftly changed. His voice became calmer, more deadly, and a dangerous smile danced on his lips. "The one I told you to finish off when you got back."

Draco offered a slight sneer. "I'll take care of it when I choose, if I decide to take care of it at all."

"Oh you will, will you?"

As Corbin pushed him down into the comforter, Draco's hand went for his wand, which he thought was nestled in the pocket of his robes. He was severely dismayed, however, to find that it wasn't there. He was distraught further still as he found himself pinned effectively beneath his sire. 

Corbin was sitting on his hips with both of Draco's wrists held in one white hand, a cold look of satisfaction on his face.

"It's foolish to defy me, you realize," he said smoothly.

With a growl, Draco tried to buck his captor off, but to no avail.

"Foolish indeed," the dark-haired man replied as he began to relieve the Slytherin of his clothing. 

Draco shouted wordlessly in protest as he realized Corbin's intentions and tried once again to free himself, thrashing violently. He was rather shocked (and quite angry) as he felt a sharp pain; Corbin had embedded his fangs in Draco's shoulder. And it didn't feel like it had the first time either; it _hurt_, and rather badly. He could feel a cold hand exploring his exposed chest and continuing down.

He tried to rise up as his pants where unbuckled, but the fangs sank deeper and it was all he could do to keep from yelling out. But no, he wouldn't give this sadistic man that little pleasure. At least, that's what he thought.

He felt his pants being removed and shut his eyes tightly. He could block all this out if he tried hard enough, surely. Then the fangs were gone and he let himself relax slightly, taking a deep, slow breath. 

There was a hand between his legs, and he could not keep quiet as the pain suddenly reemerged in his inner thigh. He cried out sharply, arching up off the bed, and caught a glimpse of Corbin through half-lidded eyes.

The vampire was smiling in a rather unpleasant manner as he glanced from the small, still-bleeding wounds he'd made in Draco's skin to Draco himself, and he pulled himself up to cover his childe's body with his own. Leaning down next to the blonde's ear with a sneer, he whispered darkly, "Scream for me."

* * *

Harry knew the next day would be awkward, and therefore took his time getting dressed in the morning before he'd have to head down to breakfast, piddling around pointlessly, and when Neville asked if he was coming, he gave the excuse that he was looking for something which, in all actuality, he didn't have.

When Ron came back up to the dorm to check on Harry, though, he was finally forced to go down to the Great Hall.

It didn't take long for Ron and Hermione—well, for Hermione, anyway—to notice that something was up.

"Harry," Hermione said slowly, watching him swirl his pumpkin juice around idly in his goblet, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied promptly, setting the goblet down on the table and pulling his bowl of cereal closer so that he could stare down into it rather than meeting the curious eyes of his friends.

"Come on, Harry," Ron pressed. "It doesn't do you a bit of good to lie to us, you know that."

He didn't answer, but instead looked past Hermione's head at the Slytherin table, quickly finding Draco. How could they not tell he'd changed? Didn't they notice he'd stopped eating? 

Harry put those thoughts out of his head as he caught the blonde's expression.

Draco was sitting farther down the table than normal, staring sullenly into his bowl much as Harry had been doing a moment ago and dutifully ignoring Pansy Parkinson, who was apparently in the middle of telling him a rather bad joke. His hair didn't look quite as neat as normal, his clothing not quite as impeccable, and Harry could've sworn he looked even paler today than he had the night before.

He had planned to be angry with Malfoy today, and rightfully so. He had planned to shoot him dirty looks whenever he saw him. He had planned to, perhaps, yell at him later in the hallway, if given the chance. But these plans were suddenly wiped clean from his mind as he studied the would-be target of his anger. Malfoy looked… _broken._

But as Blaise Zabini turned to talk to him with a wide grin, the drawn, lifeless expression vanished, melting into the smirking, sarcastic visage Harry was used to.

"What did that prat do to you, Harry?" Ron demanded angrily, following Harry's gaze and snapping him back to the here and now. 

"What?" Harry said blankly.

"Malfoy! What's he done to you? I know you went out again last night. Did he corner you?"

"… No," Harry lied, glancing at Ron briefly before going back to his cereal.

Hermione was completely unconvinced by that, and it showed on her face as she stabbed a bit of egg with her fork. "Harry," she said tersely, "we can't help you if you won't tell us what's going on."

"Nothing's going on, 'Mione, really. Quit worrying."

He could tell that he hadn't satisfied either of them with that answer, but he didn't care. He had other things on his mind.

Breakfast passed slowly, with stolen glances at Draco and worried looks from Ron and Hermione, but it was finally over and the three made their way to Professor Flitwick's room.

By the end of the class, Harry hadn't learned anything. He didn't even know what they'd been doing, because as soon as he had sat down, his mind had drawn him in, cutting him off from anything going on outside of himself. 

Why had Malfoy looked so… so _hopeless_? He didn't understand it. If anyone should be upset, it was him, right? Unless something had happened to Malfoy…

But what could happen?

Harry shook his head. He didn't care. After all, it was just Malfoy. Malfoy, whose smartass comments and scathing remarks he'd had to put up with for the last five and a half years. Malfoy, whose arrogance was nearly intolerable. Malfoy, whose hand had been down Harry's pants last night…

A sudden blush found its way to his cheeks with the memory, and he tried to force it down as he made his way to Transfiguration, trailing a bit behind Hermione and Ron, the former of which having already scolded him severely for not paying attention in their last class. 


	7. Chapter VII: Confessions

Lunadeath – Yes, but this one's a bit longer. ^^;; Sorry.

PeachDancer82 – Not telling! =^^=

Deseri – No need to be so _hateful, Ging. *Giggles*_

cherish chang – All is revealed!

musegurl18 – Well, this will probably end up with a lemon regardless. ^^

Kimi the Kenlei – ^^;; Ara… Thank you! I try my best.

Felis Draconis – Thank you! Personally, I can't see anything in Draco's dominant, stuck-up nature that would allow him undue uke-ness, but I suppose lots of people think the same about Harry (minus the stuck-up-ness, though). Ah well. Glad I was able to sway you a bit. ^^

queenofgondor21 – No, that's not what his lessons were. That was just Corbin being a bastard. Oh, but you know Harry wanted it. ^_~

Harmoni – Poor, confused Draco. Corbin's just a *coughjealouscough* control freak.

SilverDragon49 – You'll find out! ^^

The Observer – Lookit, Abby, I updated! . I was a bit impatient to get it out, so I didn't wait for you to go over it. I had a friend read it and she didn't spot any major problems, but if you do, tell me and I'll fix it.

Angel Ran – Heh. I'm glad you happened upon my little fic then. ^^ Yeah, I kind be kinda sadistic like that too. Obviously, I mean.

Dragenphly – I see your point. Harry is fairly powerful, but what about without his wand? I know this is a Harry Potter fic and all, but I just don't really feel like putting in a whole bunch of magic. Probably because I'm too lazy to go look up spells and things I've forgotten. ^^;; But anyway, I took your words to heart, and Harry gets a little pissed in this chapter. But really, it's just a little. I think I just enjoy the idea of a submissive Harry too much.

Maximum Poofy-Queen of AU – I'm glad you rediscovered it. ^^ Nice name, by the way.

Heeey, I finally finished the chapter! Yay! Sorry it took so long. Anyway, school's gonna be starting back up Monday, but for some reason, I think I'll get _more_ work done on the story rather than less, because it's what I did before when I got bored in my classes. So yay! Okay, so this chapter's a bit longer, but not much. ^^;; Sorry. Thanks to everyone who reviewed ('cause I didn't thank everyone personally; it just takes too long)! You guys really are great, putting up with me and the insane amount of time it takes me to update. Unrelated note: Anyone see "Pirates of the Caribbean"? Though the better question probably is "Who hasn't seen it yet?" One of THE best movies I've ever had the pleasure of going to see three times. I was hoping to go once more, but I don't think it's gonna happen. Ah well. Enough of my ranting. Here's the chapter. ^^

Chapter VII: Confessions

Classes were over for the day, and Harry had just realized something very important: It was Friday. And Friday was the day Harry was to be Draco's donor.

He glanced at a nearby clock. 8:45. So he had fifteen minutes to get to that classroom.

He pulled himself out of the comfy armchair with no minor amount of difficulty and headed to the portrait hole, the rest of the common room paying him no mind.

Ron and Hermione had gone down to the library to do a bit of research, though what on they wouldn't reveal, and the rest of his friends that might have cared that he was leaving (Dean, Seamus, Neville) were busy arguing about Quidditch or studying.

His hands were deep in his pockets as he walked, head down, to the classroom in which the "transaction" was to be made. He wasn't really sure what to expect. Yes, he _had_ experienced Draco's thirst before, but there were going to be people there this time, and he wasn't certain whether that put him at ease or made him feel worse.

 _"… Donor system? With professors or prefects watching over, I assume. How very… rude."_

Now Harry knew what Draco had meant by that. The process was close; much closer than the Gryffindor would've liked. It would be extremely embarrassing to have some sort of reaction to the young vampire with other people in the room watching…

He reached the classroom. He knocked on the closed door hesitantly and, after a nerve-wrenching pause, it was opened by a student Harry recognized but didn't know by name. The door was shut behind him and Harry saw that there was another familiar student (he was fairly sure she was in Ravenclaw) and three professors: McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore greeted pleasantly.

"Hullo, Professor," Harry answered.

"Well, I imagine there's not a lot to go over with you, is there? You know what to expect."

Harry nodded.

"Splendid," Dumbledore said. He seemed rather unperturbed by the whole mess, which Harry took as a good sign. "Now then, if something goes wrong (Merlin forbid), do anything you can to let us know."

"Er.. if something went wrong, wouldn't you be able to tell?" asked Harry confusedly.

 "Mr. Malfoy has insisted on having a separate room set up for Friday evenings," Snape cut in with a slight sneer. "For privacy."

Relief. "Oh."

"This way, Potter," McGonagall said sharply, taking Harry gently by the arm and leading him to the back of the neglected classroom, where there stood an old oak door. He was ushered inside and the door was closed softly behind him.

The room was close and the air was slightly stale, which led Harry to believe it may have, at one point, been a storage closet (though the window set in the far wall made him doubt himself), and it was empty save for two sad looking armchairs and a sconce.

In the armchair closest to him was a person. A very blond person, as he could see over the top of the chair. As if he didn't know who it was anyway.

"Evening, Potter."

"Malfoy." Harry moved to sit in the unoccupied chair.

Draco tilted his head to study Harry. "Nervous?"

"Why should I be? I've done this before."

"Then you remember what happened."

"I remember your self control sucked."

Draco chose to ignore that. "Did you enjoy it, Potter? The acute pain, the pull of blood leaving you, my hands on your body? I know you did. I felt your excitement."

"Excitement? I thought you were going to _kill me."_

_"Make me a promise, sweetling."_

_"… I-it hurts…"_

_"It doesn't have to. Promise me."_

_"…"_

_"I'm waiting."_

_"Nn! God.. s-stop…"_

_"Promise me!"_

_"Oh god, STOP!_ Please… it hurts too much…"__

_"Kill him."_

"… But I didn't, did I? Now stop your whining and come here," Draco said, patting his leg.

Harry rolled his eyes but went over compliantly. He could've sworn he saw something in Draco's face change a minute ago, a glimpse of what he had seen at breakfast that morning.

"… What happened?" he ventured, sitting on the arm of Draco's chair.

"What do you mean, what happened? I just decided I didn't want you dead yet," the blonde replied matter-of-factly.

"No, no. I mean… did something happen last night?"

Draco's face became an impenetrable mask as he asked casually, "What would've happened?"

"I don't know. You looked… weird this morning. I thought maybe something had happened."

"Even if it had, it would be no business of yours," Draco said a bit harshly. "And that's not where I told you to sit."

With a sigh, Harry moved reluctantly into Draco's lap, not failing to notice the other boy wince.

"Geez, didn't think I was that heavy." 

Draco didn't comment on that, but raised a hand to the back of Harry's neck, pulling the Gryffindor down closer.

"Look, I can tell something's the matter. You don't hide things very well," Harry blurted out.

"It's none of your business," Draco shot back, running a slender finger over the warm flesh beneath his hand.

Harry suppressed a shudder. "Malfoy—"

"You're not my _friend_, Potter. You're my food. I don't need your sympathy, your consoling. Nothing you could say would make what happened any less horrible. So why don't you just be quiet and let me do what I have to do?"

"I'm sick and tired of you bossing me around!" Harry said heatedly, shoving against Draco's chest. "Just because you've been changed into this.. this _thing doesn't mean you can do whatever the hell you feel like!"_

"I don't need you judging me! Don't you think I feel bad enough as it is?" Draco stood up quickly, causing Harry to nearly fall over.

"What?"

"You want to know what happened, Potter?"

Harry looked at Draco uncertainly. He was starting to get a little scared. He just wanted this to be over so he could leave.

"You remember in the infirmary, when I dropped you? That man that was in there?"

"Yes…"

"He's my sire. He's the one that made me this way." Draco hesitated, slowly slumping back down into the chair. 

"What about him?" Harry asked quietly.

"You realize this really is none of your business."

Harry huffed indignantly. "I know that, but you—"

"He raped me."

"—and… He what?"

"You heard me."

Harry stared silently at Draco for several minutes. "… You have to tell Dumbledore."

"What the hell do you think he can do, Potter!" Draco snarled. "Don't you think they've been looking for him? They can't find him!"

"But Draco, you could—"

"No I couldn't. I have no idea where he is. He comes to me."

"… I still think you should tell Dumbledore. He might be able to do _something."_

"No. I'm not going to tell anyone. I didn't plan on telling you either. And if you pass it on to a single soul, I'll kill you," Draco murmured icily.

Harry could tell by the look in Draco's eyes that he wasn't joking. "Fine. I won't tell anyone."

"Good. Now get back here, we're not done yet. And no more talking. When you talk, things get difficult."

Harry didn't move. _Raped_? That was horrible. He wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy—well, okay, he probably _would_ wish it on Voldemort. But not on Malfoy. Not on Draco.

"Are you just going to stand there all night? It would probably be pointless; we'll end up on the floor anyway," Draco said, looking at Harry with a peculiar expression.

Harry sighed. "Fine, fine." He sat himself back down in Draco's lap slowly, no longer in as compliant a mood as when he had first come in. Things were awkward now. He wanted to leave.

"You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you," Draco muttered, pulling Harry down closer to him.

"I'm not your damn toy, you know," Harry said tersely. "This was _my decision. I volunteered. If you keep treating me the way you do, I'm going to quit."_

"Listen, Potter. You just made things easier. If you had shot down Dumbledore's suggestion, I would've come after you. After that first time, there was absolutely no way I could leave your blood alone. It's different."

"You really would've taken from me against my will?"

"Without a second thought."

Harry got up again silently. He'd had it; he was leaving. 

Well, he _thought_ he was leaving anyway. But Draco grabbed a hold of his arm, hand like chilled stone, and held him firmly in place.

Harry turned on him, glaring. "Let go of me, you great prat! If you want to let that bastard of a vampire have that sort of power over you, _fine, but I'm not going to let someone else control me! Maybe you deserved what you got."_

Draco was momentarily stunned. Those words had hit him hard.

_"You're mine now, and there's nothing you can do about it."_

_"No. I won't. I refuse to be some mindlessly obedient drone."_

_"Childe, you don't have a choice."_

"He doesn't have any power over me," Draco argued with false self-conviction.

"Then why the hell are you so scared of him? Someone has to have _some sort of power over a person to frighten them, to intimidate them," Harry stated, his anger simmering down to an intense impatience._

"What power do I have over you?"

Harry hadn't been expecting that. "What?"

"I know I scare you."

"You almost killed me the other night!"

"But before all this happened. I frightened you sometimes, didn't I? Why?"

Harry hesitated before answering quickly, "You make me feel things that I don't think I should be feeling for you."

Draco sighed, releasing Harry's arm. "I think you ought to leave."

Harry suddenly regretted yelling at the blonde, but he resisted the urge to apologize. "But you haven't even fed yet."

"I'll be fine until tomorrow evening. Now go. I'd really rather not look at you right now."

"… Fine. Whatever." Harry went to the door, flinging it open with more force than was necessary, and headed for the classroom exit, ignoring the professors and other students.

"Potter!" McGonagall called as she started after him, but Dumbledore laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Let him go."

She pursed her lips but complied, turning her gaze back to the other door as Draco emerged looking very unpleased, though whether it was with Harry or with himself it was hard to tell.

"Malfoy?"

But Draco didn't answer her. He just stalked towards the door, wondering if he hadn't just done something incredibly stupid. On top of it all, he wasn't sure he _could_ last until the next evening. But he would have to.

As Draco left the room, he caught sight of something that seemed, to him, unnecessarily foreboding: Dumbledore was frowning.


	8. Chapter VIII: So Close

OH MY GAWD. You guys must hate me so much right now. _ I'm real sorry, but… things happen, y'know? I finally got back on track though. Rejoice. Hopefully I'll be able to _stay on track, eh? Anyway, like I said, I'm sorry about the humongously long wait. Personally, I don't feel this chapter is up to my usual standards… at least at the beginning. I enjoy it more towards the end, but I couldn't figure out how to better the start, so I suppose… you'll just have to deal with it. ^^;; So one more thing before we get on with the story here._

If this ever gets removed from FFNet for content, where should I post it? If you've got a suggestion, please feel free to tell me in a review, by e-mail, or by IM (my info's on my page). 

Now then, on with the chapter! 

Chapter VIII: So Close

I'll never waste another day  
Searching to find the reason  
Why did I choose to play this game?  
This goes too far  
I'll take no more

- Lacuna Coil, "Self Deception"

The next day, Draco was absent from all his classes. Though Harry didn't like to admit it, he was rather worried.

He knew enough of vampires to be aware of a fledgling's need to feed nightly, and he felt bad suddenly, standing there in the Herbology greenhouse, about the night before.

_But_, he reminded himself as he shoveled dirt into a large clay pot, _it's not like I denied him or anything. He refused to take from me. _

His face screwed up slightly as another thought popped into his head. _I was the reason he felt that way though…_

He shook his head. No. Malfoy started this whole thing, and he certainly wasn't going to put all the blame on himself. He, Harry, was the victim here.

"Harry?"

He blinked. It was Neville. "Er… yes?"

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm… fine."

Neville frowned. "Well… if you say so. But you're using the wrong soil. I… I thought I'd let you know."

Harry forced a little smile. "Thanks."

Worst of all, he didn't feel like he could talk to any of his friends about this. All he had was Malfoy.

If Sirius were here…

But he wasn't.

Harry dumped out all the dirt he had scooped into his pot and started filling it with soil from the correct bag, clanging the shovel against the rim angrily.

He _had_ to go and think of Sirius. Not that the memory of his godfather hadn't popped up several times since his death, but it hadn't reared its head since this particular ordeal had started, and he had been quite grateful for that. He didn't need another source of stress and distraction.

He stopped his work as he realized Neville was still standing there, looking at him.

"Was there something else, Neville?"

The other boy glanced down at his shoes as he spoke. "You seem so worried all the time, and none of us"—Harry assumed he was speaking of his other Gryffindor companions, who weren't nearly as close to him as Ron and Hermione—"can figure out why. There… isn't something going on with You Know Who, is there?"

So that's what everyone thought this was about? Voldemort?

Harry snorted. "No. It's just.. some personal matters."

Very personal indeed.

It was well into the day before Harry was reminded that he had Quidditch practice after classes.

Ron approached him in the hall, and they walked together silently for several minutes before the redhead spoke up.

"You're going to be at practice, right?"

Harry's face went completely blank. "Practice?"

"Quidditch practice," Ron clarified slowly. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"Of course I didn't forget," Harry said unconvincingly.

"Good, because we've got that match with Slytherin at the end of the week. We'll need to be in top form."

Harry stopped right where he was. "Slytherin?"

"Yes, Slytherin," Ron said a bit tersely. He turned to Harry, causing several students to be forced to walk around the two boys, shooting them annoyed glances. "Look, Harry. I don't really know what's going on between you and Malfoy, and I'm not sure I want to. But I don't like it. He's making you a _mess_. Don't you think you've got enough on your plate without dragging that idiot into your life?"

"How can you say something like that," Harry started, becoming aggravated, "when you don't even really know what's going on?"

"Harry, he's going to end up ruining your life, if he doesn't outright take it!"

"He wouldn't do that!"

Ron stared at his best friend disbelievingly. "Why are you defending him? Harry, this is _Malfoy we're talking about! Malfoy who's tormented us since first year, Malfoy who treats us like trash, Malfoy who hates my family and calls Hermione a mudblood and wants nothing more than to push your face into the mud and take the spotlight!"_

"I can't believe you!" Harry said angrily, his voice rising.

"_I can't believe _you_!" Ron countered. "You _like_ him, don't you? It's true!"_

Harry wanted this to stop. He wanted to be out of the hallway and away from this conversation, this argument. He wanted to be away from Ron. "You don't know anything about this!" he shouted.

"Okay then, why don't you _tell me about it?"_

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Well?" Ron persisted.

"… I'm going. See you at practice." Harry started down the hall once again, heading for his last class and trying not to think about why he couldn't answer his friend.

"Harry! _Harry!" Ron called after him. But Harry had disappeared into the crowd of students rushing down the halls in desperate attempts to be punctual._

* * *

For this first time in his life, Harry did not want to play Quidditch. He didn't want to see Ron again just yet, and he definitely didn't want to think about playing Slytherin.

But Quidditch matches were in the daytime, right? Would Draco even be able to play?

The improbability of that happening cheered him up a bit, and he continued on his merry way down to the pitch, broom held loosely in one hand.

It was a nice day for practice, he had to admit. The sun had not yet set and its rays crept over the ground, giving everything a warm, golden glow. The air was fairly still, but once in a while a gust strong enough to make flying interesting would whip Harry's robes about him playfully, and he couldn't help but crack a small smile.

He heard Ron's angry shouting before he even reached the pitch. Once inside, he saw his friend, red in the face and surrounded by several other Gryffindor team members, glaring pure spite at what appeared to be, Harry observed dismally, the Slytherin team.

"We have the pitch today!" Ron said heatedly. "I went and booked it myself!"

"Sorry, Weasel," said Blaise Zabini (who had joined at the beginning of the year), "but we're practicing here today. Though I doubt very much we need to." He grinned. "You can go take it up with Madam Hooch if you like."

Ron stomped over to one side, his teammates following him, and Harry realized he wasn't all that mad anymore. Seeing his friend so upset (with someone else) had about wiped the earlier argument from his mind.

"By the time I found her, it'd be dark…" he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"We could use the far end," Harry suggested as he approached. "They can't very well use the entire pitch all by themselves."

"Don't bet on it," Ron replied, looking at Harry. "But I guess it's all we can do."

The Gryffindors picked up their things and headed to the other end, Ron leading them, but Harry had barely taken two steps before a cold hand landed on his shoulder.

"Your team's going to need all the practice it can get with a captain like Weasley," a familiar voice drawled.

Harry turned, scowling. "Ron's gotten loads better over the summer. You just wait for the match. You'll see." He was about to take off, but Draco apparently wasn't finished talking yet.

He flashed a sardonic smile, his hand finding its way back to Harry's shoulder, and said, "I'll see you a little later, Potter. You can count on it." And with that, he went to rejoin his team.

"… Later?" Harry repeated to himself worriedly. "What's later?"

"Harry!"

Ron and the others were waiting for him, so he shook it off and ran over to join them, though not without catching a cocky smirk from Draco out of the corner of his eye. It didn't ease his apprehension.

Practice ran smoothly, not counting a few minor bludger accidents, and as they went into the locker rooms to get changed and clean up, something pushed its way into Harry's thoughts.

The sun had been shining throughout the entire practice. In fact, it had just begun to set when they came in. But Draco had been out there with the rest of them, gliding through the air and watching avidly for the snitch.

How was that possible? Only very old vampires were capable of withstanding any amount of sunlight, direct or otherwise.

He began removing his Quidditch gear, still mulling over this little tidbit. Ron apparently hadn't noticed it either. Then again, Ron had been rather busy. The team wasn't in the best shape, especially for the upcoming match. Ron was worried, as any good captain would be.

Harry looked up from unlacing his cleats as the subject of his thoughts sat down on the wooden bench where his foot was propped up.

"Hey, Harry…"

"Hullo."

"About earlier… I'm sorry," Ron said, looking down at his feet. "I suppose I didn't have any place to say those things."

Harry was silent for a moment, fiddling with his laces hesitantly. "You're right. You didn't. But… I shouldn't have yelled at you. But I can't really explain something that I'm not sure of myself."

"Well can't you at least give it a try?"

"… I guess so. Just.. not right now."

Ron gave a little nod and glanced back at the door. "I'm gonna go on back."

"All right. See you at dinner then."

"See you."

As Ron left, Harry realized that he was alone. Everyone else had already cleaned up and gone, but he'd spent so much time absorbed in his own thoughts that he was running a bit late.

He pulled his shoes and socks off and headed to the showers, draping a towel over one side and stripping off his dirty practice clothes. He turned on the faucet and moved right into the warm water, eager to get cleaned off and leave. Dinner would be served soon and he was already getting hungry.

"You don't know what hunger is, Potter."

Harry jumped and grabbed the towel he had hung over the side of the shower stall, quickly covering himself and turning to face the intruder. 

Draco flashed a sardonic smile. "You can count on it."

"_Malfoy!" Harry yelled, his face red as he clutched tightly at the towel, knuckles growing pale._

"I'd love to stand here and chat, Potter," Draco said as he stepped into the shower stall, turning off the water, "but I fear I'm about to lose my composure."

Harry's back was against the slick tile wall, and the blonde was only moving closer. Harry took a brief moment to recall the other times he'd been caught between Malfoy and a wall. He did _not care for the situation._

"Your… composure?" he echoed.

"I barely made it through today," Draco said honestly, eyes sweeping over Harry in a manner the Gryffindor could only describe as hungry. "You don't understand how hard it is for me to just stand here and look at you."

"Then don't just stand there and look at me," Harry said sharply. "_Leave_. You don't need to be here anyway, I'm not dressed."

Draco shook his head. "No. I've waited all day… I can't stand it any longer. My veins are _burning."_

Before Harry could respond, Draco was on him. The vampire's arms were around him, pulling him into a crushing lover's embrace, and Harry dropped his towel in favour of using both hands to try and shove Draco off out of foolish instinct.

"If you want a drink, fine, but not here! Not like thi—" Harry's words stopped quite abruptly as he felt the quick, sharp sting, then the urgent but controlled pull. 

For the second time, he was pressed up against a wall with Draco at his throat, draining his life away. For the second time, his hands were clinging to Draco in submission rather than fighting to free himself. For the second time, he didn't care.

His worries passed from him slowly, leaving with the blood, and in its place came the familiar throbbing pleasure.

Draco seemed to be in another world. He had needed this so terribly. He had almost jumped fellow classmates in the halls multiple times throughout the day.

He held Harry as tightly as he could without crushing him, drinking slowly in an attempt to draw the feeling out, but still he felt Harry weakening. He would have to stop soon.

Harry could feel this as well. A wave of dizziness swept over him, and he wondered if Draco would take his life.

_Oh well…_ Harry thought distantly. _He can have it…_

But then the pull was gone.

Draco was still holding him, eyes closed, and Harry was amazed at how blissful he looked. How serene. How _human._

The vampire's skin had more colour to it; he looked as he had at the start of term. And he was warm.

Warm. But Harry was so cold…

He felt Draco's soft lips again and he tensed, but only a kiss was pressed to his neck. He shivered. Why hadn't the blonde gotten off of him?

"Draco…" he said meekly, looking off to the side.

He felt another kiss, this time on his cheek. This was getting weird. _Malfoy_ was being sweet on him.

"Harry," Draco murmured. It was so soft Harry wasn't entirely sure he had heard correctly.

"… What do you want?" he whispered. "You got your drink. Leave me alone."

"You're blushing."

Harry pursed his lips, growing angry. "Get off me."

Rather than getting off, Draco slid his arms around Harry and sat on his hips, knees hitting the wet tile on either side. Then, quite without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed Harry, hard.

The first kiss Harry had received from the Slytherin had been abrupt, rough, mocking. This one was… close. Deep. Passionate.

He didn't know what to do. He wanted out of there, but… some part of him was desperate to stay.

He noticed that his arms were around Draco still and thought to move them, but nothing happened. He just sat there, with Draco in his lap kissing him.

While all this was rather suspicious and surprising, Harry found himself in _complete shock as Draco bore down on his hips, grinding against him. He also found himself moaning._

If he hadn't been blushing before, he most certainly was now.

Draco's tongue slid past Harry's open lips and into his mouth without warning, exploring almost possessively, and Harry's fingers clutched at Draco's shirt tightly as the vampire put a little more force behind the movement of his hips. 

"D… Draco…" Harry breathed as the kiss was broken, eyes shut, "stop…"

"Why?" Draco asked softly, grazing his fangs across Harry's neck.

Harry's hips gave an unwarranted buck and he bit his lower lip, cheeks darkening. He wasn't cold anymore.

"Because… nn.. What do you _want_?"

"I'm claiming you, Potter," Draco murmured.

"W-what!?" Harry exclaimed, trying to push himself up. "You can't!"

Draco was undeterred. "Can't I?"

"You'd just be doing to me what Corbin did to you!" Harry blurted out.

Draco paused, then smirked faintly. "Only if you say no."

"Harry! Harry, come quick!" Ron. It was Ron. And it sounded like he was just outside.

"Harry!" the redhead called again as he stepped into the locker room. "Are you still in here?"

Harry turned as white as the vampire on top of him as Ron appeared at the entrance of the stall. Ron, however, became as red as a tomato.

"H-harry!?"

Harry tried to cover himself, but Draco was still on him. _He_ didn't seem the least bit concerned about Ron's presence.

Ron was speechless.

"Well don't just stand there like a great prat," Draco said, annoyed. "What do you want?"

"I… uh…" Ron said rather blankly, "up at the castle…" He seemed suddenly to remember why he'd come. "At the castle. Harry, something's happened."


	9. Chapter IX: Not the Same

So after establishing myself as the worst updater in the history of all mankind, here is chapter nine. I know it's been ages, but hey, sometimes your muse dies of malaria and you have to go buy a new one. I don't really remember what direction I was going with this, so I'll either have to dredge the depths of my memory or find a new direction. I also stopped working on this because it stopped being fun, and since writing fics is mainly for fun (since you can't really publish them), that ruined it for me. BUT! Lucky for all of you, I scraped some fun together and finished this chapter. I've also been trying to work more on my own stuff. I'm sure you'll all be pleased to know that those undertakings are flopping equally as well.

I would like to thank my beta, the one who sent an edited copy of the chapter back to me and whose screen name I am at a total loss for right now, so if they could please contact me I'll correct this and apologize profusely. I would also like to thank the people that still read this.

Disclaimer: I still don't own any of these people, with the exception of Corbin. Props to J.K. Rowling and who the hell ever else.

* * *

Chapter IX: Not the Same

_You're not the same, you've changed_

_I don't need you anyway_

_You're not the person_

_That I believed in yesterday_

_- Bodyjar, "Not the Same"_

Draco had finally let Harry (who was tired and still rather flustered) up to get dressed, though not without reluctance, and now the two of them and Ron were making the trek back to the castle.

Harry and Ron were carefully avoiding looking at one another, and Draco was trailing along a few feet behind them, still looking a bit put off about the interruption.

The three walked across the grounds in silence, and when they finally reached the entrance to the Great Hall, they were greeted with a cacophony of uncoordinated noise. There was a good amount of yelling, and professors and prefects were trying their best to get the mob of students attempting to push into the Hall back out of the way.

"Go back to your dorms!" Harry heard someone shout loudly. "There is nothing to see! Go _back_ to your dorms!"

Things were in complete chaos. It was impossible to see what was actually going on, and Harry just shook his head. What in the _world_ could be causing all this mess?

It was then that someone emerged from the entrance, pointed hat towering above the throng of students.

Everyone went quiet. It was Dumbledore.

"All of you," he called, eyes sweeping over the crowd, "will return to your respective common rooms. You will stay there until told to do otherwise. There will be no classes tomorrow."

A hushed whisper shot through the congregation, but no one moved to leave. Dumbledore wasn't pleased.

"_Now_!" he ordered.

The crowd thinned quickly then, people darting off this way and that. Everyone knew something big had happened; Dumbledore never yelled about anything.

Harry, Ron, and Draco were about to go as well, but they were stopped.

"You three," Dumbledore said, looking down at them. He sounded calmer now, but there was still an uncharacteristic sense of sternness and unease about him. "Into the Hall, please."

They said nothing, merely doing what was asked of them.

Once inside, the huge double doors were shut behind them with a muted thud, and Harry knew something was seriously wrong.

The tables had all been pushed back against the wall, leaving the Hall looking vast and empty, and a stiff sense of foreboding seemed to permeate the air. He shuddered. The Great Hall was usually such a happy place.

Dumbledore cleared his throat softly to get everyone's attention. "I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here."

"Well no shit. I was in the middle of something," Harry heard Draco murmur irately.

Ron's cheeks pinked. Dumbledore didn't notice.

"Something truly… _horrendous_ has happened just this evening," the headmaster said gravely, "and we need to hear all that you know."

Harry noticed then that they weren't the only ones in the room. McGonagall and Snape stood a few paces behind Dumbledore, McGonagall wringing her hands with a nervousness Harry had never seen before and Snape clenching his jaw, looking paler than was normal for him.

"If we have any reason whatsoever to believe that one of you is lying, the Veritaserum potion will be administered without hesitation," Snape said brusquely, eyeing Harry and Ron with mistrust.

"That, of course, applies to _all_ of you," McGonagall chimed in, shooting a look at Snape before letting her cold gaze fall on Draco.

"To the topic at hand," Dumbledore said, quieting his fellow professors. "You are all acquainted with Ms. Pansy Parkinson, correct?"

Harry, Draco, and Ron all nodded.

Harry couldn't stand her.

Draco was disgusted by the way she hung all over him.

Ron thought she was bloody annoying and _hated_ the way she treated Hermione.

"Shortly after sunset, her body was found inside the Forbidden Forest, drained of blood."

A silence swept over the room.

Harry studied Dumbledore's grave face. He couldn't believe it. Pansy Parkinson was _dead_? Sure, he'd never really liked her at all, but that didn't mean she needed to _die_. This would make the second student to die at Hogwarts…

"You think I did it," Draco said suddenly. He narrowed his eyes at the three professors. "You think I killed her."

"Now Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore began calmly, "that's not what I said. We merely wish to know if any of you have any information about this. It is very important that you tell us _anything_ you believe might be helpful." He looked at each of the boys in turn.

The quiet in the hall was strained. Everyone knew this was a very delicate situation. A student had been killed, and the culprit was still free. That meant everyone on the grounds was in possible danger.

Harry looked down at the grass-stained toes of his shoes. He had a pretty good idea about who the killer was, but he was hesitant to say anything. What if it got Draco in trouble? What if it got Draco hurt again? He glanced over at the blonde vampire.

Draco had the exact same thoughts running through his head, and as he locked eyes with Harry he forced a thought into the other boy's head: _Don't tell_.

There was no doubt in his mind that Corbin had done it, and he had the feeling his sire was trying to set him up. Why go after Pansy, of all people?

He didn't want anyone finding out. Corbin would… touch him again. He knew it. A punishment for betraying him.

No, he had to keep silent.

"Nothing?" Dumbledore inquired. Draco imagined he heard a bit of disappointment in the Headmaster's voice.

"It was him!" Ron blurted out without warning. He was pointing at Draco.

The Slytherin was enraged.

"You lying bastard!" Draco shouted. It seemed for a moment he might attack the redhead, but he remained still, glaring hatefully.

"Ron, what are you talking about?" Harry demanded.

"I saw him coming from the direction of the Forest on my way to the Quidditch pitch earlier," Ron went on, "and I heard him yesterday telling Pansy to meet him there this evening before practice!"

"That's a _lie_!" Draco exclaimed, his hands curling into fists. "I can't believe this!"

"Boys," Dumbledore called loudly.

But Ron wasn't finished yet.

"He drinks from Harry all the time too, when he's not supposed to be 'donating' or whatever!"

McGonagall looked _extremely_ upset by this news. Snape appeared as though he was trying very hard not to step forward and strangle Ron.

"Ron, that's not true!" Harry argued, but one of his hands had moved up to cover the fresh bite marks on his neck.

"_Boys_!" Dumbledore said again. They fell silent. "We can solve this easily. Severus, give Mr. Weasley the Veritaserum."

Snape took a small vial from the inside of his cloak and moved toward Ron. "Gladly."

"Wait," Harry said nervously. All eyes turned to him. "I mean… uh… is that really necessary?"

"What are you doing, Potter?" Draco hissed.

Harry didn't look at him. He was afraid that, if Ron was given the potion, he'd say something about what had happened in that shower stall. That was _not_ something Harry wanted getting out.

Draco caught the Gryffindor's thoughts. That little prat was going to get him into trouble just to keep his pride intact? Potter was his alibi, while he was loathe to admit it, and having Weasley spill his Veritaserum-soaked guts to the assembled professors might be a boon. It would clear his name, at any rate. Otherwise, his defense was without a solid foundation and he was left flinging empty protests against Weasley's accusations (which were, admittedly, empty themselves). Potter's need to keep his reputation free of Malfoy smudges could get Draco sent off to… well, Azkaban, for all he knew! But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he really didn't want word of that after-practice tryst spreading around school either.

Besides, his father would never allow him to be sent to Azkaban.

Right?

"Regardless," McGonagall broke in, disrupting Draco's thoughts, "of whether or not Malfoy is responsible for this loss, if he is indeed drinking from Potter at unscheduled times, something must be done."

Harry fidgeted as McGonagall moved toward him, raising her hand and gesturing impatiently to his neck.

"Let's see then, Potter."

Harry glanced off to the side with the guilty expression of a boy trying to hide a scrape or bruise acquired while playing someplace his mother had expressly warned him away from.

McGonagall gave Harry a piercing look. "Move your _hand_, Potter."

Harry's hand slid away, and the hall filled with a tense silence as the two identical little wounds were exposed, still a vibrant red against Harry's skin.

McGonagall looked positively livid, but Draco was quick to defend himself.

"I missed a session," he said hurriedly. "I was desperate, and he said it was fine."

"He attacked Harry!" Ron argued, pointing an accusatory finger. "He attacked Harry after practice!"

Draco scowled deeply at Ron. "You lying sack of—"

"_Gentlemen_!" called Dumbledore loudly. His patience was obviously stretched very thin. He looked squarely at Harry and said, "Harry, why don't you tell us all what occurred?"

Harry gave his friend a strange look and then met Dumbledore's gaze. "Malfoy's telling the truth. I… let him do it. He needed it."

Okay, so he wasn't being completely honest, but it wasn't an outright _lie_. It wasn't as though he'd really tried to get Malfoy off of him. He simply couldn't understand why Ron was trying so diligently to get Malfoy into trouble.

"You see there?" Snape said icily. "He allowed for it, and he's perfectly all right."

"That's _extremely_ dangerous, both of you!" McGonagall shouted. "Letting him drink from you without a chaperone nearby. Honestly, Potter, he could've killed you!"

Both Snape and Draco opened their mouths to protest, but Dumbledore cut them off.

"While that was an unwise decision on both parts and such an event should not be repeated," he began, "we have somewhat more pressing matters at hand, seeing how young Harry here is unharmed."

A heavy solemnity settled over those present and Dumbledore looked at them in turn, focusing finally on the three boys.

"Have you told me everything you know? Any little detail may prove helpful. If we do not find out who did this, we will have to close down the school for the safety of everyone here."

Another look passed between Harry and Draco, but neither spoke up.

"I'm telling you," Ron blurted angrily, breaking the silence, "_he_ did it! I—"

"That is _enough_, Mr. Weasley, thank you," Dumbledore interrupted wearily. "You and Mr. Potter may leave. Mr. Malfoy, kindly remain with me. And I ask that the three of you keep all of this to yourselves."

Harry took a long, measured look at Draco, but it was broken as Ron grabbed his arm and began to drag him toward the doors with an "Of course, Professor."

As soon as they were outside, Harry tore his arm from Ron's grasp.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" he demanded sharply.

"Harry, he's _done _something to you!" Ron said plaintively. "Why are you defending him?"

"Because he didn't kill anyone! Because you're lying! He could get sent to Azkaban for something like that!"

"Well, all the better for us, then," Ron said nastily. "Harry, Draco bloody Malfoy was just on top of you in a shower stall! Something needs to be done."

Harry didn't have a response for that. Something _was_ happening; he knew that. If Ron hadn't walked in when he had…

Malfoy frightened Harry. It was a truth Harry had to accept. He felt like a toy. The Boy Who Lived, hero of the wizarding world, reduced to a blood doll for Draco Malfoy.

He glared at Ron hotly. "Nothing's going on, all right? He—caught me off guard. That's all."

"He's fucking with your mind, Harry, and you know it! You've got to get _away_ from him."

"This isn't your business," Harry said defensively.

Ron looked almost hurt. "Not my business? Harry, you're my _best friend_. If some utter _prick_ decides he's going to screw around with you, it IS my business!"

Harry was too heated at this point to back down. He knew Ron was only concerned for his well-being, and even though he definitely went about showing it the wrong way, he was only looking out for Harry. Unfortunately, his boiling anger was stomping gleefully all over his reason.

Harry thought about saying, "I know, Ron. You're right, and I'm sorry, but Malfoy still didn't kill anyone. Let's go back inside and explain, and then we can talk about this."

_Stomp, stomp, stomp._

What left his lips was this: "You know, maybe Malfoy was right! Maybe you _are_ jealous!"

All Ron could do for several moments was stare at Harry in astonished silence. Then he narrowed his eyes at the other boy in disappointed anger and clenched his fists tight by his sides to avoid throwing a punch.

"Unbelievable. Forget it, forget the whole thing. You just go off with Malfoy and be his little Potter puppet, then, and don't bother talking to me again. I hope he fucking drains you."

Ron turned and stalked away across the grass in a quiet rage, and Harry's heart suddenly sank down into his trainers. He knew he would regret those words for a long, long time.


End file.
